Barney Fife of the Bible

Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up

a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Matthew 17:1-4

Back when there were just 4 channels of TV, re-runs of “The Andy Griffith Show” would come on during the afternoon on the “UHF” band. Sheriff Andy Taylor of Mayberry, NC, and his sidekick- a squirrelly, sad, comical, wiry Deputy Barney Fife (pictured above), kept the town safe.  Barney had a big heart and  the best of intentions. He was mostly harmless, and completely incompetent.  Andy didn’t carry a gun. Barney did, but Andy only let him have one bullet (and Barney had to carry it around in his pocket). Barney loves and worships Andy, loves being a deputy (and most importantly) loves the people of Mayberry. 

St. Peter, like St. Barney, means well, is zealous, loves Jesus, and is a big goof. He is impulsive, says what he thinks, and often is the object of thorough tongue-lashings from Jesus. 

Jesus, Peter, and  others go up to the top of a mountain, and there they meet up with the spirits of Moses and Elijah.  Peter  blurts out the idea that they build three “dwellings” for them. What exactly was he thinking? The plan was boneheaded, very Barney Fife-like, even.  I picture Jesus finishing his little celestial conference, looking at Peter, sighing deeply, maybe even shaking his head, and saying, “Peter, Peter, Peter… Let’s go.” 

Later, as they are walking down the mountain, Jesus quite wisely admonishes his friends “to tell no one.” Peter must have had the hardest time with that order. I can imagine that, for days, he nearly burst apart wanting to tell the story to others.  

Later, Jesus says that Peter is his dude here on Earth- the one who will start his church. Jesus, changed his name from Simon to “Petrus”, (meaning “rock”).One has to appreciate the pun, too. Rocks are solid yet dense- immovable and stubborn, always full of tiny flaws. Peter is, if you have not guessed, our surrogate in the Jesus story, an invitation to be fully human yet also fully invested in the Jesus movement (just like Peter). 

St Peter proves that God not only is empathetic about our humanity- she desires that we embrace it and pursue ministry and love on this earth (however clumsy it might be sometimes). We have wise ones- the Sheriff Taylors of the world- to help us sometimes sharpen our efforts. Peter reminds us that God can take our best intentions, combine them with celestial and divine guidance, and even turn them into her mission here on Earth. 

Hardest Work There Is

Hardest Work There Is  

Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.” MT 5:38-40        

"Who really does this? ," we have to ask, if we are honest.  The whole “turn the other cheek thing”, for example, resulted from real things that actually happened to Jesus People quite often, in fact. Jesus followers who heard this teaching had to shake their heads and think it was crazy talk. 

Back then,  a “cultural superior” would slap someone of a lower caste with the back of the hand. (A Roman Citizen would never hit a lower class person with the flat of their hand— too messy!) By “turning the other cheek”, victims of this kind of every day violence communicated to their perpetrators, “Hit me again if you will, but it will be as an equal, because I am a human being.” Turning the other cheek was and act defiance and assertion of  equality. By reminding the doer of violence that their victims were human beings  they could transform  violence and victimhood and perhaps even remind someone caught up in the intoxicating power of rage that they were hurting a fellow human being. 

Or how about this one-

A Roman citizen, by law,  could ask any subjected person to carry their stuff for one mile (and no more). Jesus says to his followers— “Don’t just carry their stuff a mile— carry it all the way home (the second mile).” I don’t want to carry my adversaries stuff a foot, much less a mile. Jesus is saying that we not only have to love our enemies in the abstract sense, but seek to do them good when offered the opportunity. 

When we put these teachings in perspective, we realize that they are still hard for people like us to do. 

Sometimes it seems as if the human story is just about one group of people gathering together in a tribe and working to suppress or destroy another group through violence. The end of these kinds of actions does bring about peace (for a while) but it never deals with the root causes of violence. So, Jesus is not just telling individuals how to act, but is laying  out none other than his vision for building peace in a violent world. He is also getting humanity to tell a new story. 

Loving our enemies and praying for our persecutors opens up our imaginations to the possibility of how we might serve them and love them. Seeking ways to insist upon our humanity to our victimizers is the most potent kind of resistance against evil.  Turning the other cheek ministers to our oppressors because they become more human when they see fellow children of God on the other side of whatever conflict that exists and not just people worthy of "the back of their hand."

As the walls between the haves and have nots and those who are in and out  are being made more pronounced in our national life, we might even find ourselves with new “enemies” - even as we feel even more victimized. So, living these teachings is hard work, takes the greatest kind of imagination and must be centered in our living lives of prayer in our beloved community called the Church. Let’s put our energies towards imagining how we will be called to turn the other cheek and what the second mile might look like. We can start with one another. 

This is the hardest kind of spiritual work, yet in it lies the keys to none other than God’s kingdom among us and with us. 

St. Stephen Monford

Stephen served here for about 10 years, I think, and I am going to miss him.Stephen Monford was a Sexton here at All Saints', was our friend, co-worker, and member of our church family. Sextons keep things running so smoothly and are the reason this place stays beautiful. Whenever you come to an event that is nicely put together, in a clean, lovely place, it is because of them. Stephen cared deeply about his place, and about all of you, too. Being a Sexton was not just his job, but his calling- his ministry to others.

Stephen died last Sunday after a short battle with cancer. The last year or so, he suffered physically yet he would be here many Sundays, always eager to help and make sure things were perfect for us all. Whenever I would call him and ask him for help with something, no matter how busy he was, he would happily say, "I got you, Tim." I not only felt as if the task at hand was going to get done (and it always did) but I also felt cared for- loved- seen and heard.

Friday, in Rome Georgia (his home town), I am going to be preaching at his funeral because his family's church in Rome felt as if we were the ones who really knew him. In spite of the fact that he was an employee here, he was family to us, and we to him. I have been talking to people who knew him well and hearing stories about him. Everyone smiles before saying a word about him. One of my co-workers here described Stephen as having a "contagious joy." So good.

He took great joy in living life together with all of us. In Episcopal funerals, we say the word "alleluia" a lot, which is kind of weird, but also rather fitting. In doing so, we acknowledge that when people die, it is not the end because the love that God has infused into all creation (and into the relationships we had with them) can never die. Hard for even me to believe sometimes (especially as I write this and face the loss of someone I liked as much as Stephen Monford), but it is true, just the same. Death sucks, but it is a part of living, and many times it happens to people we love.

The beautiful thing about grief is that it helps become real human beings. We suffer the loss of the physical presence of a person, and we have to deal with the fact that our relationship has changed and not ended. The new change is hard to face-- even sometimes frustrating-- because it means they are not here with us. Yet, every time I have grieved, there comes a day when I feel, and know the presence and love of the one I have lost in its new form. I have felt it on a breeze, heard it on the radio, and even experienced it in a conversation or dream. I learn to look for them when I feel loved and in God's presence.

Yet, I will admit now, that I am very sad, and will miss this dear, sweet soul who loved wastefully and lived his life with courage and integrity. As you walk across the courtyard, take a moment to miss him and pray a prayer of thanksgiving for his life and work. Perhaps in honor of St. Stephen Monford, we can take on the practice of just responding to the need of others with an "I got you" and a smile.

Tim